A big black Alpha-wolf climes a hill in the fading light, so he can sing and howl throughout the coming night.
The dwindling sunlight plays on his eyes and face, as he stands there tall, a noble member of a dying race.
As the sun sets he lifts his head to sing, and his voice causes the very air to ring.
Away in the forest the wolf-pack picks up their Alpha's song, and they all begin to howl togeather - loud and long.
Suddenly a gunshot sounds out through the night, and down goes the black wolf-leader without a fight.
Sprawled out on the hill, bleeding, life dims in his eyes, he shudders and whimpers, and finally he dies.
Then the human walks up the hill, his gun held high, looking down at the wolf with a satified sigh.
He kneels down, his heart swelling with pride, wondering how much money he'll get for the wolf's hide.
Then he takes the wolf away, an animal he holds but dose not love, not noticing the Alpha-wolf's spirit watching him from Above.
Now the night is quiet and silent and still, and no more wolf-cries sound from the hill.
Then the wolf's pack creeps from the trees, their thick pelts rippling in the cool night breeze.
They run to the place where their Alpha was slain, but all they find on the grass is a big, red bloodstain.
Then the Alpha's mate, her belly full of pups, begins a new song, about their loyal leader and of his that was so wrong.
All the wolves mournfully howl, then at last they go away, sad that their leader will not see the next day.
Yet that day is happier, for six wolf pups are born, and the Alpha-wolf's mate ceases to mourn.
Two of the wolf pups are brown, and three are gray, soom they are playing about in the warm spring day.
But the sixth pup, who is jet black, is at the center of their play, growling and bossing them aroung in a very Alpha-like way.
He has the same noble look his father had once worn, and the wolf-pack relises that a new leader has beem born.
Now, years later, a new black Alpha stands atop the hill and cries, while the old one watches proudly from the Heavenly skies.
The young wolf-leader howls long, the boldly says: no matter what happens, there will be wolves here...always!
by Sloane Jensesn, age 17
The dwindling sunlight plays on his eyes and face, as he stands there tall, a noble member of a dying race.
As the sun sets he lifts his head to sing, and his voice causes the very air to ring.
Away in the forest the wolf-pack picks up their Alpha's song, and they all begin to howl togeather - loud and long.
Suddenly a gunshot sounds out through the night, and down goes the black wolf-leader without a fight.
Sprawled out on the hill, bleeding, life dims in his eyes, he shudders and whimpers, and finally he dies.
Then the human walks up the hill, his gun held high, looking down at the wolf with a satified sigh.
He kneels down, his heart swelling with pride, wondering how much money he'll get for the wolf's hide.
Then he takes the wolf away, an animal he holds but dose not love, not noticing the Alpha-wolf's spirit watching him from Above.
Now the night is quiet and silent and still, and no more wolf-cries sound from the hill.
Then the wolf's pack creeps from the trees, their thick pelts rippling in the cool night breeze.
They run to the place where their Alpha was slain, but all they find on the grass is a big, red bloodstain.
Then the Alpha's mate, her belly full of pups, begins a new song, about their loyal leader and of his that was so wrong.
All the wolves mournfully howl, then at last they go away, sad that their leader will not see the next day.
Yet that day is happier, for six wolf pups are born, and the Alpha-wolf's mate ceases to mourn.
Two of the wolf pups are brown, and three are gray, soom they are playing about in the warm spring day.
But the sixth pup, who is jet black, is at the center of their play, growling and bossing them aroung in a very Alpha-like way.
He has the same noble look his father had once worn, and the wolf-pack relises that a new leader has beem born.
Now, years later, a new black Alpha stands atop the hill and cries, while the old one watches proudly from the Heavenly skies.
The young wolf-leader howls long, the boldly says: no matter what happens, there will be wolves here...always!
by Sloane Jensesn, age 17
Photographie by sexy jesus
Great story, great verse, thanks for sharing!
Such a moving poem. Thanks for sharing.